(I am a trans-man who started hormone therapy a few months ago. Quite early in the morning, the doorbell rings. I wake up from it and, as I’m expecting a parcel, hurry to the door in my old and rather girly-looking pajamas. As soon as I open, the salesman outside seems ready to start his spiel, but pauses and looks at me in confusion. I am aware what he sees: A short person with a noticeable chest and bright pajamas, but also broad shoulders, a masculine-looking haircut and visible stubble. He blinks and starts again.)